Undercover Love (The Women of Manatee Bay, Book 2) (22 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

“I forgave her tonight.” Rachel’s gaze didn’t waver from his, though her voice quivered on
tonight
. Truth. Shouted with her body actions.

“Are you happier now?”

“Yes. I am.” Her nails tapped against her cup, a thoughtful click in the quiet kitchen. “I didn’t want to.”

“What did she do to you?”

“It’s a long story.”

“A painful one?” He phrased it carefully, not needing to examine why he suddenly wanted her to share with him her secret hurts.

“Yes.” A blade couldn’t have been sharper than the look she shot him.

“If you ever want to talk about it …” The words halted on his lips. It wasn’t like he could interrogate her, break her down emotionally and urge her into a confession. But how he wanted to, just to forge a deeper bond between them.

A faint flush suffused her face. “It’s not a big deal anymore.” She sighed and looked away. “It shouldn’t be.”

He kept quiet. Most people would fill a silence with words.

Rachel’s gaze returned to his and an impish smile crept up her cheeks. “Are you using interrogation technique on me?”

Surprised, he slung back coffee, grimacing as the hot liquid raged down his throat.

“You are.”

“You don’t sound disapproving.”

“I guess I’m not. It’s nice to see you don’t follow all the rules.”

“Didn’t break any.”

“Interrogating a woman you date breaks a lot of protocol. It’s just not cool.”

“I’m an officer of the law. No one pays me to be cool.”

“Right now you look like a surfer from Laguna Beach.”

“And cool?” He grinned, then let the grin melt into a more serious smile. “I care about you. I care about what happened to you in the past. If you ever want to share, I’m here.”

Her eyes rounded. He recalled the aloofness she’d iced herself in during all those dinners with Alec and Katrina. Did this uninhibited expression of disbelief mean she was allowing him to glimpse her private feelings?

“That’s very kind of you,” she said.

“I’m not a good Samaritan. You’re special to me.”

“I’m beginning to believe it,” she murmured. Her fingers reached across the table and took his, clasping them tight. “My past isn’t a huge secret. The pain comes from the destruction of mine and Maggie’s relationship.”

“It sounded to me like she’s the one who destroyed things.”

Rachel took a deep breath. Her grip tightened on his fingers. “Kind of. She slept with my fiancé five years ago.”

Grant scrambled back in time, trying to recall five years ago. Maybe when she’d first come back from college and opened her PI business? He popped his hand up from hers, snapped his thumb and middle finger. “Are you talking about preacher boy?”

“I’m referring to Scott.” Her head side-tilted. “How do you know about him?”

“I crushed on you in high school, so when you came home I was curious.”

“You what?”

“I found out about your boyfriend on a stakeout.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, held one of her palms up in the air. “Hold it right there. First of all, I have no clue why a thirty-year old man would use the term ‘crushed.’ Secondly, what stakeout?”

“Just some observation to make sure you were legit.”

“How long has this been going on?” The pitch of her voice could crack a mirror.

“Who cares? You’re saying Scott cheated on you? Wasn’t he a minister?”

“A youth pastor, and it doesn’t make him perfect.” She heaved her chair back and exploded out of her seat. The chair slammed against the wall. Twice in twenty four hours. Grant resisted the urge to check the wall for marks. How often did she do that? The woman was like a train constantly propelled by her emotions. She paced the kitchen, her hands flinging upwards and outwards.

“I
knew
you all were checking up on me. Spying.” She swung around, planting her hands on the table with a loud slap. “Stalking.”

“No,” he scoffed. “Sit down. We did a few investigations, just when we were bored.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not a big deal.” Amused, he stood, letting his length unfold until he looked down at her. Rachel liked being in control. At least she couldn’t control being shorter than him, though he figured she’d like to. She straightened, the top of her head level with his chin.

He didn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled in his chest. Her eyes flashed up at him, greener than palm fronds in summer.

“Being stalked is a big deal.” Her lips pressed into a thin line and her arms crossed. “Have you and your buddies been interfering with my investigations?”

An angry Rachel beat Rachel sad and worried any day. He reached out to touch a strand of her hair but she wrenched away, moving closer to the fridge.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Look, it was years ago. Besides, you mostly investigate spousal infidelity. Not any groundbreaking legal stuff.”

“Ha, I do a lot more than investigate philandering spouses.” She glared at him and the brilliance of her eyes almost dulled his instincts.

But not quite. A thread of truth wove through her tone. His radar went off. Rachel sounded too sure, too confident. A chill crept across his skin.

He stepped closer to her, forcing her to lean against the fridge. He hardened his gaze so that she’d know he meant business. “Like what?”

She wet her lips and looked away. Evasion. “Just other stuff. Like you said, nothing groundbreaking.”

Grant shifted on his feet, ran his fingers through his hair. She wasn’t telling the complete truth but obviously he’d made her feel bad. “I didn’t mean what you do isn’t important. You’re smart. Didn’t you win some math tournament in high school?”

“Calculus.” Her lips curved. “I went to nationals.”

“And you’re kind.”

She snorted.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, marveling at how this tall, confident woman could feel so fragile beneath his touch. “You really are. I watched you with Maggie. There’s not too many women who would comfort her like that.”

Rachel’s eyes deepened to a darker green. As though his words wounded her. She shook her head. “I’ve been a horrible sister. Judging Maggie, censuring her.”

“Protecting her.” He smoothed his thumbs across her collar bone, then cupped her face. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

Her eyes widened as he leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against hers. Coffee still clung to her lips, the taste of it both bitter and sweet. Her arms slipped around his neck. For the first time he felt as though this kiss was right. As though the attraction that sizzled through him whenever she came near was more Godly, more good, because it was tempered with tenderness and respect. He stroked the back of her neck, thankful for the way the muscles relaxed beneath his touch. Poor Rachel. Trying to be so strong, so independent. 

A hungry need swept through him, uncontrollable. His lips devoured hers.Her fingers feathered against the base of his neck, bold.

Too bold.

Prickles of pain raked against his skin and he jolted away from her. He heard a soft thump behind him just as he stepped back. His heel crunched down on something. A shrill yowl pierced the room. A familiar yowl. Grant leapt to the side, pulse rushing through his veins.

“What was that?” He glanced at Rachel. She was bent over, arms around her waist. Her hair fell past her face and her shoulders shook.

“Are you laughing?”

“I-I’m sorry.” Her giggles could melt sugar. They trickled through the room, landing in his heart and warming it through and through.

Grant reached up and touched the moisture on his neck. “I hope your cat has all its shots, because the thing clawed me good.”

Rachel let out a shaky sigh, wiping at the tears trailing down her face. “She does. Here, let me have a look.”

“You think this is funny?” But he turned, hiding his smile. That kiss had been something. An eye-opener. God knew what he was doing.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Miss Priss was hovering on the top of the fridge. I think she swatted your neck when you jerked back. Then she jumped down behind you and you mashed her tail.”

She chuckled as her fingers probed the tenderness at the base of his neck. “Poor Miss Priss.”

“Sounds like a mean cat to me,” he grumbled, then winced when her fingers prodded a scratch.

“I’ll get some water. These are little scratches and there’s only a bit of blood.” She turned the water on and the rack squeaked as she unwrapped some paper towels. “Don’t move. I don’t want any blood on my floor.”

“Of course not.”

The water stopped and she moved behind him, dabbing at his cut with gentle pauses. “So you noticed my perfectionism.”

“Hard not to.”

“Done.”

He straightened and faced her. She tossed the paper towels in the garbage.

“About that kiss,” Grant paused, not sure what to say.

“Yes?” She gave him a saucy grin, her hands on her hips, but he thought he saw wariness in her eyes.

He wanted to kiss her again. The knowledge fed him, sparked feeling into his befuddled mind. He wanted more than that. A family he’d never had. A stability and warmth she could share. “It was unexpected.”

Her lips screwed together, tightening into suspicious lines.

He never planned on creating forever with anyone. His mom and then his foster families had given him the impression that romantic love was only a dream, something to keep the heart hoping. Now that he’d become a believer in God, he knew true love existed. But romantic love? Was it the strange tickle near the vicinity of his heart? The urge to be near Rachel at any cost? The desire to see her smile forever?

“I didn’t know I’d feel this way about you,” he said quietly.

Rachel’s head kind of jerked forward, like his words surprised her. The tightness around her lips eased but her arms circled her ribcage.

“What way do you feel?” Though she looked more at ease, her pitch was still altered.

“You know what kind of guy I was.”

“Before you became a Christian.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. Talking about feelings wasn’t the easiest thing to do. It made him feel awkward, something he hadn’t a whole lot of experience with. Women had always come easy for him. His heart had never snuck past his smile. Now he knew why guys in college and high school shuffled their feet and mumbled. Purposefully, he relaxed back against her counter, giving her the smile a girlfriend once told him was crooked and irresistible. “Being with someone forever, loving her, was never in my plans.”

The smile seemed to be working on Rachel. A flustered blush crept along the edges of her cheekbones. “What are your plans now?”

“I have a couple.”

Her brow lifted at the same time as the corner of her lip.

He held up a finger. “One, to learn everything I need to know about following God.”

“There’s not a whole lot to it, Grant.”

He ignored her and popped up a second finger. “Two, I plan to let Him lead me in love.”

Now she looked confused. She crossed her arms again and regarded him with a quizzical smile. “And…”

“He’s leading me to you.”  He watched in triumph as her jaw slacked and her eyes widened. Time to switch things up. “Do you want to see a movie one night?”

Her eyes flickered. Then a smile transformed her face and her arms lowered. “Tuesday?”

“Sounds good

A strange ball of warmth bounced through him. Amusement, and maybe a touch of heaven-sent peace, pulled his mouth into a broader smile. “I’ll see you at the movies Tuesday night.”

Rachel nodded and stepped past Grant. Her throat felt dryer than beach sand at low tide. Another date. All those dinners, watching him and pining for him, and now he was turning his affections her way.

Or God was, if she believed Grant. Which she did. While he was known for being a charmer, she’d never heard anyone accuse him of sneakiness or deceitfulness.

A deep sigh escaped from somewhere deep inside. Tuesday night. Only two nights from now. She glanced at the clock hanging near the front door. Almost eight o’clock.

The emotional drama of the day made her fingers tremble as she reached for the lock on her door.

“I could’ve let myself out,” Grant said from behind her, his tone laced with humor.

“I know.”  But she wanted to be near him for as long as possible, to see the quick wit in his eyes and the relaxed set of his shoulders. To relish his warmth towards her. She twisted the lock and swung the door open.

Miss Priss weaved against her calves. She shifted her feet so the cat wouldn’t escape. Grant moved around her, taking the door from her and pausing in the doorframe.

“Any particular movie you’d like to see?”

She thought about it and realized she’d watch just about anything if it was with him. The knowledge shook her. Was she so emotionally dependent? Like her mother?
No
. She tossed the thought to the curb. Grant was different.